


The Way Home

by stop_tommytime



Series: The Way Home [1]
Category: Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stop_tommytime/pseuds/stop_tommytime
Summary: Tommy Oliver hasn’t set foot in Angel Grove since their parents split up. After the accident, they get sent back to live with their dad. Somehow, everything is exactly the same, even though everything is different now.  Tommy isn’t quite sure what to make of their life these days, and to make matters worse, Jason Lee Scott still lives right next door.
Relationships: Kimberly Hart/Trini, Tommy Oliver/Jason Lee Scott, Zack Taylor/Original Character(s)
Series: The Way Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842670
Kudos: 11





	1. Here Comes Trouble

Airports are noisy places. The Sacramento International Airport was no exception; though an argument could be made that it was the noisiest airport in the continental United States. In this airport, there was no god. Chaos and atrocity reigned supreme, going unchecked by all that had the power and being furthered in its quest by the TSA agents. At least, that’s how it felt to Tommy.

There was a slight chance that Tommy was merely being dramatic, but as they wrenched their suitcase from the baggage claim where it had been tightly wedged between two golf bags, they figured not. They fought their way back through the crowd, struggling to breathe a little with the press of people around them. They spotted a gap in the mass; ignoring their untied shoelaces they made a break for it. Tommy may have been on the shorter side, but they were surprisingly fast when unimpeded. The exit was in their view, streaks of daylight streaming through, the sound of rushing cars and elated greetings to loved ones could be heard from just beyond. Tommy was five feet from sweet escape.

The doors began to slide closed, causing a spike in Tommy’s heart rate. They picked up their pace, nearly knocking over a plastic plant in their haste. With a triumphant grin and a loud cry of “YES,” they made it through the doors and out to pick up/drop off area. Tommy turned their head back to give the airport a smug smile and hitched their backpack higher on their shoulders. 

“Tommy!” a masculine voice called, catching Tommy’s attention. Anxiety settled in the pit of their stomach, and they took a deep, steadying breath before glancing over to where their father was waiting. He stood with the driver’s side door open, waving both hands above his head and smiling widely. Tommy waved back weakly. 

He’s still got that shitty truck, they noted dully. Their steps were a lot more unhurried as they made their way to their father’s car; but they had forgotten about their untied shoe. Just as they reached the side of the car, their foot got caught on the loose string and they pitched forward with a small shriek, feeling a small pop as their prosthetic detached.

“Tommy!” their father called again, rushing to their side. He reached out to help Tommy stand.

“I’m fine, dad, get off!” they said, waving him off. A flash of hurt on his face, but Tommy couldn’t bring themself to care. 

“Your leg-” he started, extending it to them delicately. “Do you- you know, need help?”

“No.” Tommy snatched it from him, pulling up the leg of their sweatpants and sighing in relief to find the sleeve hadn’t moved.

“Sir, you can’t park here!” an airport employee called. Tommy’s dad turned on them harshly.

“My daughter needs to put her leg back on! Are you blind?!” he practically growled, and the employee backed away. Tommy doubted the worker got paid enough to deal with him. They looked up and saw a few people staring, and blushed furiously. They attached their prosthetic and stood gingerly, still a little unused to the sensation of it. They wobbled, just a bit, and their father reached out to help again. Tommy pushed his hands away, blushing furiously.

They turned to reach down and grab their suitcase, only to find their father holding it. They grabbed it from him, opening the back door of the truck and tossing it and their backpack in roughly. Tommy climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door roughly. Their father was already behind the wheel, ready to go.

“So how was your flight?” he asked, pulling out into the traffic.

“Fine.”

“Are you tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you wanna get something to eat? There’s this new burger joint downtown-”

“I’m not hungry.” Tommy’s father chewed his lip.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “You know, your mom left her drum kit here when you moved. I put it in the basement, the piano too, but you can play them if you want to. I’ll even get the drums painted green, how about that? Green is still your favorite color, right?”

“Yeah it is. Thanks, I’ll make my way down there once my stuff is unpacked.”

“It all got here two days ago, I unpacked some of it for you. I didn’t know where you wanted your posters and pictures though, so I left them for you.”

Tommy gritted their teeth, trying to bite down the anger that he’d gone through their things. “Thanks, dad.”

“Willadean is going to be very excited to see you. Her moms, too.”

“Yeah, I told her I was coming.”

“Jason will be over the moon.”

“Jason?” Tommy asked, sounding more shocked than they intended to. Their hand reached up to their neck, clutching onto the small metal t-rex hanging from a chain there. “Jason Scott?”

“What other Jason? He missed you a lot, you know. I catch him looking up at your window sometimes. He keeps hoping you’re gonna come home.” Another surge of anger rose in Tommy, so strong they practically saw red.

“Yeah, I’m sure he did,” Tommy spat out sarcastically. They saw their dad raise his eyebrows in the corner of their vision.

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m tired, dad. Jet lag and all that. I’m gonna take a nap.” Tommy turned on their side, pulling their legs into the seat to curl up in a ball. They heard their dad sigh, and he spent the rest of the drive in silence. Tommy spent it staring out the window, chewing on their necklace chain, hoping against all odds the heartbreak would heal before they saw Jason at school on Monday.

\---

There was something rather peaceful about February afternoons in Angel Grove, especially on fridays. Peaceful, but exciting, a sense of adventure sitting just below the surface of the chilly weather and the quiet dim of the neighborhood.

Maybe it’s just because the school year is half over, Tommy mused lightly as they lay on Willie’s porch swing, arms tucked behind their head, one foot on the porch to make the swing sway ever so gently. Tommy adjusted their sunglasses, blowing a bubble with their gum and turning to look in the driveway again. Still not back. They sighed.

Immediately after getting back to their childhood home, Tommy had run upstairs and dropped their bags on their bed. They’d sprinted down the stairs, back out the door and across the street, sending their father a hurried farewell over their shoulder. He hadn’t time to protest before Tommy was standing at the Millers’ door, smiling brightly when Willie’s moms had opened the door. Mrs. and Mrs. Miller had pulled them into a massive hug, placing kisses atop their head and leading them into the kitchen for snickerdoodle cookies and chocolate milk. The three of them made small talk until it came time for school to be let out, and then Tommy had moved to the porch to wait for their best friend.

The crunch of tires pulling into the gravel driveway alerted Tommy to the return of the darling Willadean, and Tommy almost jumped up to greet her before deciding to wait on the swing for the drama of it. Willie got out of her car, pulling out her backpack and binder and walking up the pathway. Her head was down, focused on finding her keys in her pocket. She didn’t see Tommy waiting for her. She stopped at the door, still searching for her keys, not noticing Tommy five feet to her left.

“The door is unlocked,” Tommy smirked. Willie screamed and whirled around, hand on her heart as she took in the sight before her. Tommy blew a bubble with their gum calmly.

“You-” Willie spoke, pausing to take a breath. She gave Tommy a pointed glare. “You bastard.”

Tommy broke out into raucous laughter, falling off the swing. Willie’s own joyful laughter rang out, and she stepped over to help her friend off the floor.

“You said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow!” Willie accused.

“I lied,” Tommy said, speaking around their dying giggles. Willie pulled them into a hug, Tommy returning it happily.

“I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too, Will.”

\---

“What’s with the Morrissey record?” Tommy asked, pulling it off the shelf and setting it on the table, then going back to the shelf.

“Oh, I think that’s mama’s.”

“I’ve never heard her listen to him.”

“Neither have I, but mom got it for her for their anniversary, so I guess she does.”

“Weird,” Tommy muttered, pulling out a Bowie record and setting it into the player immediately.

“So do you just have the leg, or did you get crutches too?” Willie flopped onto her bed, patting the spot beside her for her dog to jump up.

“I have a wheelchair, for like, midnight trips to the bathroom and stuff. It got sent ahead, my dad put it in my room for me.” Tommy put the needle down, and Let’s Dance played in the room. “They had me on crutches for a while, but I think they got tired of me complaining about them digging into my armpits.”

“You did it just to get a chair, didn’t you?”

“Why Willie, I’m offended at the accusation,” Tommy said airily, climbing over Willie’s legs to get to the cushioned window seat beside her bed. Willie scoffed. She opened her mouth to say something else, when Tommy got distracted by a red truck pulling into their neighbors driveway. The passenger and back doors opened, four teenagers piling out onto the cement. Tommy examined them, recognizing Kimberly Hart, a girl that had been on the cheerleading team when Tommy had moved. She was a little snotty, as far as Tommy recalled. Billy Cranston, who they remembered kids used to call Billy Crams-tons, also climbed out. He’d been in every advanced class Tommy ever had, and was probably the sweetest person they had ever met. Zack Taylor came out behind him. Tommy didn’t remember much about him, just that he was funny. The second girl Tommy didn’t recognize, but she must have been dating Kimberly, because she wrapped an arm around her waist and they kissed. Tommy couldn’t help but be a little relieved to see high school kids out of the closet.

Finally, a blond boy climbed out of the driver’s side. He turned to his friends, all laughing and smiling together, and Tommy felt their heart break all over again. They grabbed their necklace lightly, fidgeting with it as they watched the sunlight dance in his hair.

“Shit,” they whispered, but Willie heard them. She sat up to look out the window. “Is that him?”

“Yeah,” Willie nodded. “That’s him.”

“He got hot.”

“Tommy!”

“What? I hate him, I’m not dense!”

“Well, that I don’t believe.”

“What, that I’m not dense?”

“No, that you hate him.” Willie lay down on her bed again. Tommy sighed, gnawing on their bottom lip and messing with the ring on it. “You couldn’t hate him if you tried.”

“I wish I could,” Tommy grumbled miserably. They noticed what they were doing with their lip, and stopped immediately. They watched as Jason and his friends went into his house, then turned back to Willie. “Since when does he hang around with Kimberly Hart and Billy Cranston?”

“Since just after his accident. I think they met in detention. He asks me to eat lunch with them every day.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know, but it’s weird.” Willie scratched the top of her dog’s head lightly, looking up at Tommy with worried eyes. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Me?” Tommy asked, waving their hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine.”

“You can always come over here if you need to, you know that right?”

“Just like old times?” Tommy smiled.

“Just like old times.” At Willie’s affirmation, Tommy turned and looked out the window back to Jason’s house.

Not just like old times, they thought sadly, their smile fading slightly. They plastered it back on, turning and facing Willie again, pushing all thoughts of Jason away.

“Some things never change, huh?” they teased. Willie made finger guns at them.

“I got you, pal. Always have, always will.”

“Of course you’re always Will, you’d have to change your name otherwise.” Willadean groaned, and Tommy cackled.

“Kids! Dinner! It’s dumplings!” Willie’s mama called from downstairs. 

“From the place by the nail salon?!” Tommy asked excitedly. Willie nodded. “Fuck yeah!” Tommy scrambled to get out of the window seat, tripping over Willie’s legs and falling off the bed in the process. Willie laughed loudly, and Tommy flipped her off, laughing into the carpet.

“Come on, trouble, let’s get some mcfrickin dumplings!” Willie helped Tommy stand, the both of them pleased to find Tommy’s legs still firmly in place. They walked down the stairs with the dog trailing behind them, neither of them sparing Jason Scott another thought.


	2. Welcome to Angel Grove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy goes back to school.

“I’m not going to avoid him,” Tommy said, pulling their seatbelt on. 

“Really? So if you see him in the hallway you’re not going to run the other way?” Willie started the car and pulled out of the driveway, waving to her mother on the porch. Tommy waved back absentmindedly, slipping on their sunglasses. 

“No, I’m going to be completely mature, because I am a calm, level headed, rational person and I have no reason to be afraid of his bitch ass.” 

Willie made a face.

“Shut up, Will.”

“You’re going to run from him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.”

“Bite me,” Tommy grumbled, sinking into their seat. Willie nodded smugly, reaching for the volume on the radio and turning it up. 

***

“Tommy!” Syre cried. Tommy turned and smiled chessily at the sight of Bennie’s girlfriend heading toward them with open arms.

“Syre!” Tommy called back. Both enbies dropped their backpacks, embracing each other with all the fervor of old friends.

“Willie!” Willie shouted, wrapping her arms around her own torso. Syre and Tommy stepped forward, hugging her tight. Syre reached to give Willie a kiss on the cheek. Willie’s cheeks turned pink, and Tommy stepped back to give them some space. They picked up their backpack again, tossing it over their shoulder and pulling their schedule out of their pocket.

“So what do you have first?” Syre asked, reaching for Willie’s hand and her own backpack. 

“Uh… Hilderson?”

“Oh, that’s good. She’s pretty chill, you’ll pass easy. Can I see your schedule?” Willie reached forward and Tommy handed it over. Willie scanned it quick before handing it back, frowning. “You don’t have any classes with us.”

“Seriously?” Tommy cursed, worrying at their lip ring. 

“Hey, it’ll be fine, we have the same lunch period!”

“Ugh,” Tommy rolled their eyes. “That means I have the same lunch period he does.”

“He, who?” Syre asked.

“Jason Scott,” Willie answered.

“The Devil,” Tommy said at the same time.

“Oh, the baby himbo,” Syre said. Tommy choked.

“The baby himbo?”

“Yeah, like he’s pretty enough and stupid enough to be a himbo but he hasn’t fully realized his potential yet,” Syre explained. 

“I- I don’t like that,” Tommy coughed out, eyes wide with horror. They looked to Willie, hoping for back up, but she was fighting to hold back her laughter. “Willie? Willie, tell Syre that’s not allowed.”

Willie burst into laughter, and the bell rang to signal ten minutes until first period. Syre laughed, giving Willie’s hand a squeeze. 

“It’s okay, Tommy, he’s still your man. Nobody’s had a crush on him since he got kicked off the football team. We’ll see you at lunch!” Syre led Willie away, gazing up at her lovingly as she continued to laugh. Tommy spluttered, trying frantically to think of something to say. 

“I don’t have a crush on him!” Tommy called out as they turned the corner. They scoffed, feeling the burn in their cheeks as they blushed. They pulled their backpack higher on their shoulder, shaking their head. 

“I don’t.” Mumbling to themself, they moved down the hall. “I do not.” 

The school intercom rang overhead.

“Olive Oliver, please come to the principal’s office. Olive Oliver, to the principal’s office.”

Tommy stopped in their tracks. A pit of dread made its way into their stomach.

“Shit.”

***

Tommy sat in the hard wooden chair across from Mrs. Wilson’s desk, arms folded and bouncing their leg rapidly.

“It’ll just be a minute, Miss Oliver. He’s dealing with another troublemaker.” Mrs. Wilson didn’t even bother to look up from her paperwork when she spoke. Tommy scoffed, rolling their eyes.

“I haven’t even done anything,” Tommy argued lightly.

“Not yet, at least.” Mrs. Wilson said. Tommy scoffed again. The door to Mr. Caplan’s office opened, and a rough looking kid with a mop of ginger hair walked out, sulking. “You can go in now, Miss Oliver.”

Tommy stood from their seat, slunking over to the open door and shutting it behind them. They sat down in front of the massive desk and dropped their backpack to the floor.

Mr. Caplan stared at Tommy with his hands folded, his badly applied toupee the same dull gray it had been in Tommy’s freshman year. “Manners dictate that a guest waits until prompted to sit, Miss Oliver.”

“And to what do I owe the honor of your invitation, Mr. Caplan?” Tommy folded their left leg under them, getting comfortable. Every visit they’d ever had with any principal had always gone longer than anticipated. Mr. Caplan forced a smile, baring his teeth. 

“I simply wanted to be the first to welcome you back home. Angel Grove High School has been awfully quiet without you here.”

“I have no doubt you missed me.”

“Of course. I, and the entire staff of this esteemed institution, have been wary of your return,” he said, reaching for a thick file sitting at the edge of his desk. “We all remember very well your time here before.”

So he just wants me to know I’m being watched, Tommy realized. At least I’m not getting accused of anything yet.

“And your teachers at Jackson High were kind enough to update us on your progress there.” He opened the file, flipping through it slowly. “I see your grades have held up. You always have been a bright girl. Though your detention numbers, interestingly, have gone down.”

“What can I say? I made friends with a bad crowd at Jackson. It changed me.”

Mr. Caplan chuckled, though to Tommy it sounded more like a dry hack. “Very funny, Miss Oliver. I’m glad to see your former teachers didn’t need to take the same amount of disciplinary action my staff did, but I remember every stunt you ever pulled. And so does your record.”

He closed the file, tapping the cover and glaring at Tommy. “Furthermore, I don’t like the kind of influence you’ve had on other students. Jason Scott was a star pupil, he had a great future ahead of him until just a few months before I found out you were set to transfer back to my school.”

Tommy clenched their fists under the desk. How dare he. Mr. Caplan droned on. Every word out of his mouth made the anger in Tommy rise. How could he not see it? How could this asshole be so blind as to not notice how much Tommy hated him?

“Now he spends every weekend in detention with his new set of delinquent friends, and I know it’s only a matter of time until you end up there too. I’m all too aware of how close you and Mr. Scott used to be, and I also know you are once again his next door neighbor-”

“Jason Scott is not my friend,” Tommy growled, sure they were vibrating with the anger. Mr. Caplan stopped, his eyebrows raised as he took in the expression on Tommy’s face. He studied them for a moment, then nodded to himself, like he was deciding he liked what he saw.

“Good. I’ll take that as assurance the two of you won’t be any kind of influence on one another?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No, sir.” Tommy grit their teeth, and Mr. Caplan nodded again.

“You may go, then. Mrs. Wilson has a tardy note written out for you on her desk.” He waved his hand, but Tommy had stood and snatched up their bag before his dismissal had even finished. They marched out the door, and Mrs. Wilson held out the note without pausing in her work. Tommy grabbed it, perhaps a bit more roughly than they needed too, and made their way to their first period. 

***

It was on the way to their second period when they first ran into him. Literally.

“Room 987, room 987… where the hell is it?!” Tommy grumbled under their breath, watching the numbers on the doors rise and fall and rise and fall. “Fuck!”

They were just about to give up and have Willie show them later, when their shoulder smacked into someone, sending them stumbling into the lockers on the wall.

“Shit, are you okay?” they heard someone ask. Tommy sucked in a breath, rubbing their shoulder and wondering why the one that hit a person hurt more than the shoulder that hit a metal locker. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, are you-” Tommy turned around to address whoever they had hit, stopping short when they saw him. Their eyes widened, and it felt as though the floor had been taken out from under them. Jason.

“I’m alright,” he said, smiling. “You must be new, I’m Jason.” He offered his hand for Tommy to shake.

“That’s cool,” Tommy squeaked out, bolting to the nearest door. They vaguely registered the number as 987, before barging in and making a beeline for the empty seat at the far back of the room. It wasn’t until they sat down that they took a breath, worrying again at their lip ring and hoping they weren’t blushing too hard. 

His eyes are so blue, Tommy thought, have they always been that blue? The bell rang, and the rest of the class filed in, followed shortly by the teacher. The lecture began, and Tommy shook their head, clearing away the image of the boy whose eyes they knew very well had always been that blue.

***

“What’s wrong with you?” Syre set down their lunch pail. They sat next to Willie, brows furrowed as they examined Tommy. “Did you have a run in with campus security?”

“No!” Tommy snapped their head from the entrance to the cafeteria to look at Syre. “Why is that everybody’s first assumption?”

“You’ve got a little bit of a rep, Tom,” Willie said, trading the apple on her tray for Syre’s banana. Tommy’s gaze flicked out over the cafeteria again, eyes shifting quickly from group to group.

“And you’re being sketchy,” Syre filled in.

“You’re being sketchy,” Tommy countered. “It’s been a long day, okay? I think the entire staff has it out for me, you should see the way they look at me. It’s like I kicked all of their dogs and then egged their cars-”

“To be fair, you did egg Mr. Chambers’ car the last time you were here,” Willie cut in.

“Because he’s a fucking fascist, but guys, that’s not all-”

“Hey, Wills, Syre, you guys mind if me and my friends sit here?” Jason. Tommy froze. They turned ever so slightly, to see him standing right beside them, and the movement of their head caught his eye. “Hey, new kid!”

“We’re expecting more people,” Syre answered. Tommy’s eyes shot to her, surprised at the cold look on her face. 

“Oh,” Jason said, and Tommy hated it. They hated how disappointed he sounded. They hated that he seemed actually upset. And most of all, they hated how much they wanted to make him feel better. “Tomorrow, maybe?”

“Sure, Jason,” Willie said. If Tommy didn’t know better, they’d say she almost sounded sad. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Cool, I’ll see you then. Later, new kid.” He walked away, headed toward the same group of people Tommy has seen pile out of his truck two days ago. Zack Taylor patted him on the back, and the five of them set off to find a different table. Tommy exhaled.

“New kid?” Willie turned to Tommy, confusion all over her face. “Does he seriously not recognize you?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy muttered, “He hasn’t really gotten a good look at me, I guess.”

“I thought you weren’t going to hide from him,” Willie munched on her pizza. 

“I don’t know, I just, every time I saw him today I panicked?”

“How many times have you seen him today?” Syre asked, twirling their chopsticks in their hand. They grabbed a small piece of chicken with it, taking a bite, then grabbed another piece and held it out for Willie. She took the chicken happily, smiling at her girlfriend with a lovestruck gaze.

“Uh, four total maybe?”

“Four?!” Willie asked indignantly around a piece of chicken.

“Well it’s not my fault! He was in the hall on my way to science and I kinda bumped into him- literally! And then he was at the water fountain later when I was heading to math, and then he was outside the library when I went to get my textbooks because apparently I was given the wrong editions, and then I saw him at his fucking locker and its right outside my English class!”

“What did you do when you saw him?” Willie pushed her pudding cup toward Syre, who took it gladly. Tommy looked away, sitting up straight and trying to act cool.

“I avoided him.” Willie groaned.

“Didn’t you say something this morning about not avoiding him?” Syre popped another piece of chicken in her mouth. “Eat your lunch, Thomas, you need food.”

Tommy reached into their crumpled lunch bag, pulling out a sandwich and fidgeting with the ziploc closure. “I don’t know, okay, I just… freaked out a little.”

Willie gave Tommy a look very clearly meaning yeah, right.

Tommy sunk into their seat, picking at their sandwich. Syre sighed.

“Look, Tommy, nobody’s asking you to become his best friend again. But running and hiding, or freezing up, or whatever it is you’re doing isn’t healthy. You don’t have to forgive him, but you can’t let him run your life like this,” she said, reaching across the table to give Tommy a soft pat on the arm. “Besides, he’s in your sixth period so there’s no getting away from him forever.”

Tommy dropped their food. “He’s what?!”

***

Tommy hadn’t finished their lunch. After Syre told them Jason was in their last class, they’d lost their appetite. A little dramatic, perhaps, but Tommy felt it was justified.

Students entered the doorway to Mrs. Appleby’s French class, chattering with their friends as they found their seats. Tommy hung back and stood by the door, trying to figure out where to go. Jason hadn’t shown up yet, so there was no way of knowing where he might sit.

No football players in the class, they thought. They’re always carrying around massive fuckin water bottles, and even if there were he’s not on the team anymore so who can say if they’re friends.

Tommy worried at their lip ring, eyes wild as they scanned the room. None of his detention buddies, either. 

“Ah, Miss Oliver,” Mrs. Appleby set down her file, making Tommy jump. She looked up, and Tommy was relieved to see none of the contempt most of their other teachers had for them already. “I’ve been waiting for you, seats are assigned, you see.”

“Assigned?” Tommy asked dumbly.

“The third table back on the left is where you’ll be seated, your table buddy isn’t here yet but you should know he’ll be your partner on every group assignment I give and each vocal practice. I’ve seen your grades, they’re very good. You might have to help him out a little,” Mrs. Appleby explained, rifling through some papers on her desk. She pulled out a red one, handing it to Tommy. “This is the class syllabus, have your parents sign it and bring it back tomorrow.”

“Right,” Tommy said, taking the paper and heading to their seat. “Thank you.”

“And Miss Oliver?” Tommy stopped, turning back, their heart seizing in their chest. Mrs. Appleby was looking at them with all the disdain they knew Mr. Caplan had for them. “I do not want any trouble from the two of you.”

Tommy nodded, unable to speak for fear they may cry. They plopped into their seat, hoping they didn’t look as defeated as they felt. Their teachers hated them. The principal hated them. They kept getting called ‘Olive’ even when they asked to be called Tommy instead. On the bright side, none of the other students had seemed to recognize them; or if they had then it hadn’t been a big enough deal. Willie had told them about the rumor that spread after they moved, so it was a relief nobody had stopped them to ask about it.

The last few students came into the classroom, Tommy too deep in their own misery to pay attention to who they were. The bell rang, and someone sat down in the seat beside them. Tommy squeezed their eyes shut, refusing to cry. Mrs. Appleby’s voice rang out, instructing everyone to open their textbooks to page one hundred and two.

At least it can’t get worse, they nodded, reassuring themself.

And then he opened his mouth.

“Hey, new kid,” he whispered. Tommy’s eyes snapped open. They looked over to the seat beside them. He smiled, and Tommy fought the sudden urge to vomit. “Looks like we’re buddies for the rest of the year. I didn’t catch your name earlier.”

“Jason,” they whispered, not wanting to believe it.

He started to respond, then his brows furrowed and he tilted his head. “Wait, really?”

And then Tommy grabbed their bag and bolted from the room.


End file.
